


Virulent

by blvckwatch



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Acquaintances To Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, First Meetings, Gen, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Slow Build, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blvckwatch/pseuds/blvckwatch
Summary: They're rough around the edges and slightly antagonistic — an exploration of the relationship between Gustave "Doc" Kateb and Olivier "Lion" Flament.
Relationships: Olivier "Lion" Flament/Gustave "Doc" Kateb
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Virulent

_Nigeria, 2015_

“Were we expecting any extra support, Gustave?”

Taking a moment to look away from the documents piled on the desk in front of him, Gustave turns his gaze towards his colleague, Noel. Their body is faced towards the entrance of the tent, seemingly looking at something off in the distance.

For the past two months, Gustave and a small team of doctors had been working relentlessly to combat the Ebola outbreak in Nigeria. They had been sent by _Médecins Sans Frontières_ to establish a treatment center on the outskirts of Lagos State as the region began seeing an increase of confirmed cases. Gustave had traveled back and forth the first two weeks to assist in construction of the MSF site while also establishing relationships with the local cities and communities impacted by the disease. Once opened, they received an overwhelming influx of patients. Gustave was continually thankful for the diligent and caring staff who worked alongside him to make sure that everyone was properly cared for. Despite the increasing number of patients and limited staff, they hadn’t received much aid since their arrival. He wondered who exactly it was that Noel was seeing.

“ _Médecins Sans Frontières_ didn’t say anything about getting more of our people out here,” Gustave replies, eyebrows raised. Last he had heard, MSF was limiting the number of doctors out on the field for safety reasons. Most treatment centers, including their own, were spread pretty thin. He doesn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Doesn’t look like they’re with us.”

Looking past Noel’s shoulder, Gustave finally notices two figures approaching the tent. It’s hard to tell who exactly they are with their protective quarantine gear on. Although they’re currently in the low-risk area, he’s noticed that new visitors tend to be a little more cautious. The uniforms they’re expected to wear in higher risk zones of the center are similar, covering them from head to toe and leaving nothing exposed. Even now he was erring on the side of caution and wearing a face mask. Regardless of where he was at the center, the most Gustave would see of his medical team during the day would be their eyes as they worked tirelessly to ensure the comfort and safety of their patients.

It doesn’t take long for the strangers to reach the office entrance. The taller of the two enters first, quietly speaking with the other staff doctor. Gustave can’t discern much from their brief conversation at his desk aside from a gruff ‘ _Merci’_ coming from the taller man currently headed his direction, closely followed by his shorter companion. He gets up from his seat to greet them, pushing his paperwork aside. It can wait.

Leaning forward against his desk, Gustave takes a quick moment to examine the man. An air of confidence seems to exude from him, something he’d noticed as soon as they entered the room. The man is slightly taller than him as well, though not to the point where Gustave is straining his neck to make eye contact. Given their current attire it’s hard to be sure about any other details on the figure standing in front of him. However, he doesn’t fail to notice the man’s piercing eyes which have been fixed on Gustave this entire time.

“Dr. Kateb?”

“Dr. Gustave Kateb, lead doctor in charge of the MSF medical team for this treatment center,” he replies, returning the man’s gaze. “Now who are you and why are you here?”

“Olivier Flament, commanding officer of the _2e régiment de dragons_ , here on behalf of the French army. We’ve been sent here to help.” He pauses, considering his next words. “I’m sure you’re familiar with who we are.”

Gustave narrows his eyes at the answer. “And how exactly does the army plan to help out me and my medical team?” Until this moment, he was surrounded by individuals who shared his humanitarian outlook towards the virus, focused on saving lives. Now he isn’t so sure.

“Considering we’re a CBRN unit I’m sure you can put the pieces together, Doctor.”

Gustave scowls.

The individual standing beside Olivier nudges the man while sending a glare his way. “Pardon my colleague,” she says, taking a step forward towards his desk. “Emmanuelle Pichon, GIGN. I’ve heard stories about you and your work, Dr. Kateb. It’s truly admirable.”

“ _Merci_ ,” Gustave replies while giving her a small, pleased smile. “While it is nice to see some GIGN faces here, I personally don’t see the need for all this military personnel around. It's a humanitarian crisis. The only active threat we’re facing here is a deadly virus, which is why I’m here on behalf of MSF rather than GIGN.”

Olivier snorts in response, much to Emmanuelle’s dismay.

“Is there a problem, Flament?” Gustave asks, unimpressed.

“Not at all,” Olivier says while looking directly at Gustave with a level gaze.

“Well if you’re going to interrupt, would you care to inform the medical team here what exactly you’re doing?”

Olivier wastes no time in explaining the reasons behind his regiment’s arrival. He covers basic details: how many people he brought with him, the kind of supplies they’re delivering, and the skills his people can bring to the table. Ultimately, he insists that their unit is there to provide support for the MSF efforts already in place. Gustave looks at the two in front of him skeptically, but Emmanuelle rushes to ease his concerns. Whether it be by directly assisting research efforts, improving center infrastructure, or assisting in containment efforts as necessary, she assures him that the 2nd Dragoons were there to help. Olivier shoots her a thankful look.

Emmanuelle goes into further detail on the technological assistance they can provide the medical team. She emphasizes their lack of weaponry, briefly touching upon the drones that Olivier operates as an example and noting their usefulness demonstrated in past quarantine procedures. Olivier appears unaffected at the mention of his gadget, but a slight twitch in his eye says otherwise. Moving on to their other devices, she takes the opportunity to introduce some of her own inventions. The nature of her gadgets piques Gustave’s interest as they serve to minimize direct contact between doctors and patients. Emmanuelle expresses hope that the technology they’ve brought along will directly benefit the health workers at the center and potentially reduce the risk of infection they face everyday.

Although initially put off by their sudden arrival, Gustave begrudgingly admits to himself that their presence could be a huge help. With how few health workers they have here tackling the crisis, the knowledge that there’d be a few extra hands around is a relief. He isn’t about to protest the possibility of improved facilities either.

As the conversation goes on, Gustave can sense Olivier getting restless. His arms are crossed against his chest while his right foot steadily taps the ground underneath.

“While I hate to cut this short, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other better,” Gustave says after Emmanuelle finishes speaking. “This epidemic isn’t ending anytime soon and I’m sure your people have some setting up to do before it gets dark.”

Olivier lets out a quiet sigh of relief, already facing the exit and seemingly ready to depart.

“Of course, Dr. Kateb. We’ll let you get back to”—Emmanuelle glances at the pile of papers scattered across the desk, face quickly falling into a grimace—“work.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Gustave says wearily while rearranging some of the sheets in front of him, “if either of you need some help finding your way around, feel free to ask any of the staff doctors on site today. If you want a more personal tour of the place, I should be available tomorrow when I’m not on patient duty.” 

The two nod in acknowledgement. Gustave lowers himself back into his chair as Emmanuelle moves to speak with his colleague. Noel had been hanging around the entrance throughout their exchange, intrigued by the new guests. They begin to start talking animatedly as Emmanuelle says something that appears to spark their interest. 

Olivier does not follow her. Despite his earlier enthusiasm, he has yet to move.

Ignoring the other man, Gustave gets a start on the paperwork laid out in front of him. He starts filling the page with key information, handwriting getting sloppier with each new box he encounters down the page. Gustave can feel the other man's eyes watching him.

“Nice meeting you, Doctor!” Emmanuelle suddenly calls out with a wave. Gustave looks up and watches as she and Noel leave the office, still engaged in conversation. Silence suddenly fills the room. With the absence of Emmanuelle, Gustave watches as Olivier moves to leave the tent, stopping at the entrance.

Gustave looks up at him questioningly.

“Where would I find you tomorrow, Doctor?” Olivier asks, an unreadable expression hidden under his protective gear. 

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find me, Flament. I’m not a hard man to find.” Gustave hadn’t expected either of them to take him up on his offer.

“Right, of course,” Olivier chuckles, shaking his head. He quietly announces his departure with a small wave directed towards Gustave before exiting the office. He watches as Olivier walks away from the tent, the man’s retreating silhouette slowly disappearing from view.

  
  
  


Left alone with nothing but his thoughts and documents to go through, Gustave spends the next few hours tackling the pile on his desk. He addresses the patient-specific documents first, taking care to write detailed notes as necessary. The rest of the paperwork consists mostly of administrative matters he had been putting off—which he now realizes was a mistake.

By the time it gets dark outside, he has only a handful of sheets left to fill out. Setting down his pen with a sigh, Gustave gently massages his right wrist while scolding himself internally for forgetting his MSF provided laptop again this week. While he enjoys being hands on with his work, there’s only so much writing one man can handle in a day. He allows himself a minute to breathe before getting up to properly file everything away.

Within minutes the office is no longer the cluttered mess it was earlier. With a gloved hand, he wipes a bead of sweat he feels rolling down his neck. After long days like these, he looks forward to getting back to the hotel for a nice shower and some rest. The hotel is home to multiple other MSF doctors stationed here during the outbreak, including his co-worker Noel. He wonders if they left already. They would often carpool with each other to get back and forth between the center and the city. Although MSF provided them with various accommodation options in the places they were assigned to, medical teams would often choose to stay in the same building for the ease of convenience. He begins to wonder where exactly the 2nd Dragoons are staying during their time here.

His thoughts are interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Ready to go?” Noel calls out to him, hanging just outside the entrance.

Gustave nods, grabbing his worn-out backpack from the floor where it had been leaning against his desk. The bag is light; Gustave doesn’t carry much with him besides a few essential items. The only new additions to it tonight are a couple letters he wrote earlier that need to be sent out in the morning. He takes care not to bend them, tucking the envelopes in between a folder. Zipping it closed and slinging the bag over his shoulder, he gives the office a final once-over. Satisfied, he turns off the last remaining light in the room before heading over towards his colleague.

Noel Béliveau was one of the first people he had befriended during his time volunteering with MSF. They frequently ran into each other over the years on the frontline, working side by side providing aid to those in need. After a particularly close call in Afghanistan, a shaken-up Noel took a break from humanitarian work and returned home to Canada. Gustave kept in close touch with his colleague after the event, even while he was off on missions with the French military. This trip to West Africa was the first one in a while for Noel.

“Manage to get most of your work done?”

“Yes, I did,” Gustave replies. “You didn’t have to wait for me.” They often carpooled together back to their hotel, but he knows that it’s already later than usual. Noel would sometimes catch a ride with other staff on nights he stayed behind for an overnight shift.

“It’s fine, you know I don’t mind a little wait,” Noel says with a smile.

“Noticed you were getting along with Pichon earlier, what was that all about?” Gustave asks as they start walking away from the office, side by side. The treatment center—which was often bustling with activity—was now fairly quiet with the exception of the crunching gravel beneath their feet.

“She happened to recognize the school I went to,” Noel replies, pointing towards his heather grey shirt, a McGill logo emblazoned on the front, “said she was looking into Canadian schools for engineering a couple years back.”

They quickly reach Gustave’s car, throwing their things in the backseat. Once settled, Noel resumes the mostly one-sided conversation about their new co-worker on the way back to the hotel. The roads are relatively clear this time of night, which Gustave is thankful for. He keeps his eyes focused on the roads in front of him while Noel recounts his earlier discussion with Emmanuelle. He asks a few questions in between, nodding in acknowledgement every now and then. By the time they arrive at the hotel, he learns that Emmanuelle joined the military early and earned her engineering degree at home in France, all while contributing her technological experience to GIGN. The topic briefly shifts over to her commanding officer as Gustave pulls into a parking spot.

“What did Flament say to you?”

Gustave looks confusedly at Noel as he turns off the car engine.

“I saw him stay behind when I left the office with Emmanuelle earlier,” Noel adds as they start grabbing both of their stuff from the backseat.

“Fortunately, not much,” Gustave replies as he takes his bag from Noel, locking the car doors once they’re both out. “He just asked where to find me tomorrow so I could personally show him around.”

“Didn’t expect him to take you up on your offer.”

He shakes his head in amusement. “Me neither.” 

They both head towards the hotel entrance, their path illuminated by the light spilling out of the first floor windows. As they enter, Gustave sends a quick wave over to the front desk before they make their way towards the stairs. With Noel’s room on the second floor and his own on the third, they rarely take the elevator.

“You were pretty quiet in the car earlier,” Noel comments as they climb the stairs. “How do you _really_ feel about our new friends, Gustave? You can be honest with me you know.”

Gustave says nothing in response.

It doesn’t take long to reach the second floor. Normally they’d be saying their goodbyes and heading back to their rooms. Tonight however, they’re both still standing on the second floor landing, a tense silence between them.

Noel rolls their eyes. “We both know you’re not entirely enthusiastic about”—they motion vaguely with their hands—”this whole situation.”

“You can’t blame me for having my doubts, Noel. What they’re offering is nice but…” Gustave trails off. He can already see the frown forming on his friend’s face.

“You really can’t just give them a chance?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You know we’ve been struggling to maintain the facility lately, especially with all the new patients that have been coming in,” Noel continues, increasingly frustrated. Their voice echoes throughout the dimly lit stairwell.

“I’m well aware.” He knows that the extra support from the 2nd Dragoons will be beneficial, even necessary as the virus continues to spread.

“Then what aren’t you sure about? I think it’s pretty clear they’re here to help, Gustave.”

Gustave understands the risk that can accompany their line of work. He’s all too familiar with the dangers after what had happened his last time in Africa. But things are different here—Gustave can feel it. Even if their sole mission was to support the efforts of MSF, Gustave would remain wary of the 2nd Dragoons until he saw them in action.

Neither of them knew who these people were and Noel had no connection to the GIGN like he did. The lack of communication on their end was disconcerting and it was only reasonable to have reservations about their presence here.

“I’m holding my judgement until I see more for myself, Noel. That’s all.”

There’s a moment of silence between them. He’d always thought that Noel was always a little too trusting. It had put them at the center of trouble on other operations before.

“I get it,” Noel says with an exasperated sigh. “Just, forget it. It’s getting late anyways. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They exchange curt farewells before Noel leaves for their room. Gustave walks up another floor, hyper-aware of his echoing footsteps. He exits the stairwell and heads directly to his room at the end of the hallway. He finds the room key after rummaging through his bag and promptly unlocks the door, letting out a sigh of relief as he steps into the foyer. Kicking off his shoes and throwing his backpack by the bed, Gustave wastes no time getting into the shower and preparing for bed.

  
  
  


He’s woken up the next morning by the sound of knocking at his door.

Jerking up in a panic, Gustave grabs his phone off the nightstand and glances at the time. It’s 6:08 AM, almost half an hour past his normal alarm. Rubbing at his eyes, he also notices several unread messages from Noel.

 _Shit_.

“You up yet, Doc?” Noel calls out from outside the room.

“ _Oui_ , Give me a minute!” He throws his covers off with a huff, stretching as he gets out of bed. Gustave had never been a morning person, but unfortunately his career demanded him to be one. He sets multiple alarms for this reason, but must have forgotten to turn them on after the exhaustion from last night. Noel shouts at him again from outside as he heads straight to the bathroom.

“Well I’ll be down in the lobby!”

Gustave mumbles incoherently in response, toothbrush in his mouth. He finishes brushing his teeth and washing his face, going through the motions and preparing for another busy day. Quickly getting dressed and packing an extra change of clothes in his bag, he hurries down to the lobby to meet up with Noel.

He’s slightly out of breath after going down three flights of stairs and sees them sitting in one of the plush lobby chairs off to the side. He quietly talks to the front desk first, dropping off a few letters from the night before to the clerk before heading towards his colleague. Gustave was thankful that the hotel clerks were willing to help him mail out his letters, saving him a trip to the local post office. Noel flashes him a grin when they notice him.

“Sleep well?”

“You could say that,” he replies with a grimace. “I swore I turned my alarms on last night.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Noel says while reaching into their bag, pulling out a plastic container and handing it to Gustave, “figured you wouldn’t have time to make yourself something this morning.”

Taking the container from their hands, careful not to drop what he’s holding, Gustave gently lifts the lid and peers inside. It’s a simple breakfast sandwich with the bread lightly toasted. He’d normally cook himself a small meal before heading out, but had run out of time this morning. His stomach grumbles as the smell slowly wafts out.

“It’s not much, but it should hold you off until lunch. I can grab us something later before my afternoon shift.”

Noel tells Gustave to eat it on the way to the center while grabbing the car keys out of his hand. They both head towards the parking lot, the temperature outside slowly warming up as the sun rose higher in the sky. He could already feel himself heating up in the hot and dry weather on their short walk. It was still early in the year and they had a few more months before the region’s wet season was due to start.

Once in the car and settled, Gustave pulls out the sandwich while Noel plugs his phone into the car’s aux cord. While the tension from last night is mostly gone, he uses his meal as an excuse to stay quiet.

Unfortunately, the sandwich doesn’t last too long. Gustave finishes it about ten minutes into their trip, and they’ve still got about another half hour before they get there. He resorts to staring outside the window and watching the scenery go by, not wanting to distract his friend from both the roads and their music. He yawns and quietly dozes off to the sound of mellow jazz music and Noel’s humming accompaniment.

  
  
  


Gustave slowly opens his eyes when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Hate to wake you up again,” his colleague says quietly, “but we’re here.”

He stretches again while Noel grabs their stuff from the backseat. Gustave leaves the empty container under the passenger seat and grabs his own backpack before getting out. Outside of the car, Noel tosses the keys back over to Gustave as they walk to the staff entrance. Their temperatures are taken before they’re quickly ushered into the changing area, where face masks and gloves are offered. He opts for both.

Noel gives him an amused look. “Aren’t you getting into the full uniform in a bit anyways?”

“It’s important to be cautious, Noel,” Gustave says while he places a strap behind his ear.

“Just think it’s a little excessive, that’s all."

They exit quickly afterwards and Noel says a quick goodbye to Gustave before heading towards the pharmacy. Gustave starts walking to his office to drop his things off before his morning shift in the high-risk zone. He passes by the visitor's area on the way and watches the small group that are already here to see their loved ones. Visiting family and patients suspected of having the virus were separated by a double fence, ensuring at least three meters of distance are between them. The heartbreaking scenes he witnesses everyday as suspected patients are moved into the confirmed wards are a stark reminder of why he and his team are here.

He quickly leaves his bag and phone at his desk before going back to the changing area to be outfitted in full protective gear. His first shift with the patients in the high-risk zones was starting soon and he needed more than just gloves and a face mask to protect himself from the virus. When he returns to the changing area, he starts the process of getting dressed. There’s multiple layers to their protective gear, from their knee-high rubber boots to their scrubs and tyvek suits. The entire getup is suffocating in the hot weather but ensures their safety as no surface is left uncovered. 

A staff worker gives his uniform a final inspection before he exits. Once inside the high-risk zone, Gustave is directed towards a doctor standing by the wards.

“Any new developments since last night?” he asks, hoping for some good news.

“Results came back this morning for a handful of our suspected cases and a majority of them turned back negative, thankfully. Those patients should be allowed to return home shortly. Unfortunately…”

After the doctor trails off, Gustave learns that they had six more confirmed cases this morning. The number of patients infected by the virus kept increasing at an alarming rate and Gustave feared that they might not be able to keep up in the coming future. The center had just confirmed four cases last week as well and they were already beginning to fill up the beds in the high-risk zone of the center. He hoped that the supplies the 2nd Dragoons brought with them would be enough.

Pushing his fears aside, Gustave spends the next few hours with the patients he’s assigned to that day, going through the same routine with each one. He tries to make their experiences as comfortable as possible, providing aid and companionship despite the strict sanitation procedures they have to go through each time. It’s the least he can do to alleviate some of their pain.

  
  
  


He’s exhausted by time the shift ends, his body drenched in sweat. Gustave briefs the next shift of doctors coming in on the current status of their patients before heading out to the staff exit. Other than their newly confirmed cases, things were relatively stable at the center that morning. 

The removal of their protective gear is a carefully choreographed process. The moment he enters the disinfecting area, he takes extra care to follow the instructions of another staff member in the low-risk zone across from him. One wrong move could mean a possible infection.

Once all his protective gear is peeled off and properly disinfected, Gustave is finally able to leave the disinfecting area and enter back into the low-risk zone. He’s on his way to his office when he runs into one of their new guests.

“ _Bonjour_ , Dr. Kateb,” greets Emmanuelle as she exits from a nearby meeting tent.

This is the first time Gustave has seen her outside her protective equipment. She’s dressed in a casual, military-issued outfit while her hair is tied back into a neat bun. If it wasn’t for the nametag on her chest, Gustave wouldn’t have known who she was. 

“Afternoon, Pichon,” he replies with an instinctive smile hidden under his mask, “and please, just call me Doc. It’s what everyone around here calls me anyways. Saves us all a few seconds everyday.”

“Well in that case, please call me Emmanuelle. I’ve never been big on formalities.”

“Of course, Emmanuelle. How has your morning been?”

She lets out a tired groan. “Just a lot of setting up and unloading the equipment we’ve brought with us. Nothing exciting. How was yours?”

Gustave avoids getting into too much detail, but expresses the physical and mental exhaustion he feels after each shift. Without a true cure for the virus, all he can do is alleviate some of its symptoms and make sure patients are properly hydrated. Emmanuelle watches him with concern as he briefly mentions the new cases and recent increase in suspected ones.

“Is there really nothing further you can do?”

He shakes his head. “Unfortunately not. At least, not until a drug or vaccine is properly developed which we can’t afford to wait for.”

“I’m no doctor, but I truly hope that I’ll be able to help you and your medical team.” Emmanuelle pauses, face suddenly deep in thought. “You know, I’ve been thinking about repurposing some of my inventions. I can already think of a few ways they could be used to further aid your medical efforts.”

“Oh?”

“If you’d allow me, I’d love to create something for you and your team sometime. Who knows, maybe it can be of use in future operations as well.”

He smiles in response. “Of course, Emmanuelle. Any kind of help is appreciated.”

The enthusiasm coming from Emmanuelle at the idea is a pleasant surprise. As she brings up some of her ideas, Gustave recalls her engineering background. Her eagerness to apply her own skills towards helping the patients is charming. He had initially anticipated a more hands-off approach from the 2nd Dragoons.

They’re debating the practicality of using drones in the center’s high-risk zones when they’re interrupted by one of her fellow soldiers.

“Hey, Pichon! Lion says he needs you at the water tanks! Something about supplies?”

"Be there in a minute!" 

Gustave looks at her curiously, "Lion?" 

"It's a nickname Flament got years ago,” she replies, glancing back towards him. “You should ask him for the story." 

Before she leaves, Gustave offers up his office as a potential workspace at the center if she needs it. They promise to continue the discussion later, bidding each other farewell before Emmanuelle starts following her squadmate. He briefly looks down at his watch noting the time. It’s a little past noon now.

Without any further distraction other than his growing hunger, Gustave continues on his way back to the office. He wonders what Noel had bought for lunch today.

  
  
  


Gustave hears talking coming from inside the tent as he approaches.

“You sure you don’t want some? ”

He immediately identifies Noel’s voice, but doesn’t hear a response. When he walks in, he sees Noel standing behind his desk in front of an unrecognizable man. His back is facing the entrance, noticeably taller than his colleague from a distance. Although Gustave’s view is partially obscured, he can see Noel trying to offer the man something in his hand while he shakes his head. 

Noel notices Gustave’s presence as he approaches the desk and quickly waves. “Hey, Doc!” Brought you lunch!”

The man noticeably tenses at the outburst.

“ _Merci_ , Noel,” Gustave replies, walking up next to the man while taking off his face mask. “And who is this?

At the question, he turns to face Gustave. At first glance, he doesn’t look like anyone he’s seen around at the center before. He’s close enough to see the light sheen of sweat forming on the man’s forehead and the fallen strands of dirty blonde hair sticking to it. When their eyes briefly meet, Gustave is met with a vaguely familiar pair of hazel eyes gazing at him.

“Pleasure to see you again, Doctor.” 

“Good to see you as well, Flament.” He’s careful to keep his expression neutral. This is not what Gustave had expected Olivier Flament to look like unmasked.

“Couldn't risk missing the personal tour you promised yesterday,” Olivier says with a small smile, muscular arms crossed against his chest, “Figured I should stop by to see if you were busy. I also happened to run into Béliveau here.”

“I already said you could call me Noel, Olivier!” Noel interjects before looking back at Gustave and holding up a bag, a piece of chicken sticking out the corner of their mouth, “Anyways, I got you some chicken and jollof rice from that place we always go to. It might be a bit cold by now but—“

Gustave interrupts his friend and expresses his appreciation once more. He walks around to the other side of the desk, stripping off his gloves and tossing them into a nearby trash can. Gustave can feel Olivier watching them in silent amusement as Noel insists on getting out his food for him.

“Isn’t it time for your shift?” Gustave asks with a frown, grabbing the takeout box from their hands.

Noel glances down at their wrist, shoulders sagging. Their upcoming shift started in ten minutes and they’d have to leave soon if they wanted to stay on schedule. Getting into protective gear was a time consuming process after all. They quickly say goodbye to Gustave and Olivier before exiting the office. 

The room is quiet with the absence of his colleague.

Olivier is still in front of his desk, arms uncrossed as he leans back against it. He turns to watch Gustave as he starts unboxing the meal in front of him and sitting down in the process. “You know, you’re welcome to have a seat too,” Gustave says after taking a quick bite of his lunch, gesturing at the empty chairs scattered throughout the room.

“Is the desk an option?”

He looks down at the surface, which is clear after the hours he spent in here yesterday. “Sure, why not,” Gustave replies, sliding a few stray papers to the side to clear up space for the other man. “Just don’t make a habit of it. Noel already uses it as their personal seat and I don’t need another person to worry about.”

Olivier nods his thanks before lifting himself up onto the desk, body turned halfway to face him. “I assure you this will only be a one time thing, Doctor.”

“Please, just call me Doc.”

“Going straight to the nicknames, huh?”

Gustave lets out a chuckle. “Like I was discussing earlier with Emmanuelle, it saves us all a couple seconds everyday. Besides, considering your men already call you _Lion_ , nicknames are the last thing you should be concerned about.”

The man grimaces at the mention of the nickname. The topic seems to be a sore spot for Olivier. Emmanuelle failed to mention that part.

“I take it you’re not a fan of being called that.”

“It’s just”—Olivier scratches the back of his neck—”the origins of it are something I’m not too proud of.”

“I assume you didn’t get it because of your appearance,” Gustave replies, his eyes quickly roaming over the man in front of him. Olivier’s relatively clean-shaven face paired with a short haircut wasn’t exactly reminiscent of a majestic lion’s mane. Besides his athletic build, there wasn’t much else about the man that was lion-like.

Olivier shakes his head with a huff. “Unfortunately not. I got it a couple of years ago during a mission out in Sudan. Yellow fever outbreak.” He pauses, turning to look down at his feet rather than at Gustave. “I was watching out for another team out on the field when we were surrounded by some of the local people there. Things were getting unruly, people were understandably frightened. We were foreigners appearing in the midst of an outbreak after all. I was just trying to get things under control, as any other person in my position would.”

Gustave listens along, gaze focused on Olivier as he recounts the story. Learning that Flament has had experience in this particular field shouldn’t be as reassuring as it is, but it does ease some of his earlier doubts. His youthful appearance was deceiving and there was more to his past than Gustave expected.

He takes the last few bites of his rice as Olivier continues.

“I guess raising my voice in that encounter was… frightening to them. The people there compared it to a lion’s roar—that’s where the nickname came from. Eventually, the people I was working with would pick it up too. Thought it would lose traction once the mission was over, but I can’t seem to shake it.” He looks back up, a slight frown on his face. “It’s not great knowing that I’m only called Lion because people were afraid of me.”

“You were just doing your job, Olivier.” Gustave understands the difficulties in their line of work. It’s hard to please everyone when you’re an outsider in another country. Things would always be lost in translation and as members of a militarized force, they would be considered threatening everywhere they went. “Besides, Lion isn’t a horrible nickname to be stuck with. It’s certainly more exciting than mine.”

Olivier snorts, a smile forming on his face. “Maybe.”

There’s a brief moment of silence between them. Gustave starts clearing the remnants of his lunch from his desk. 

“So what’s your story?”

“I’m afraid it’s nothing exciting.” Gustave responds, tossing out the takeout boxes in the process. “Simply ended up following in the family’s footsteps. Now I’m here.”

Olivier looks at him curiously, still seated on the desk while leaning on his hands. “So did you actually want to be a doctor growing up?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“What changed?”

Gustave hesitates. 

Before he had volunteered with MSF in his second year of university, he was simply another teenager that had been pushed to follow family tradition. It wasn’t worth arguing with his father, and Gustave wasn’t particularly drawn towards anything else at the time. Without a true passion or interest in the field, classes had felt like a chore. There was more than one occasion where he considered just dropping his studies entirely that first year. 

He takes a moment to consider how much of his past he’s willing to divulge to a stranger, leaning back into his chair. “ _Médecins Sans Frontières_. My first volunteer mission with them helped me discover where my passions really lie.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“Saving lives. Making sure nobody gets left behind—that’s why I’m here after all. While medicine may not have been my passion, I can’t save lives without it. The knowledge is needed to get my job done. The things I saw on that trip…” Gustave exhales slowly, the past slowly coming back to him. Their flimsy, temporary facilities, serving multiple families in desperate need of help. Children, seemingly on the brink of death, narrowly avoiding death as a result of the emergency medical assistance they had provided. It was a sobering experience that made him painfully aware of his own privileged lifestyle. “It changed my perspective on a lot of things.”

Olivier nods in understanding. Gustave figures he’s also seen his fair share of desperation and tragedy in the field.

“Enough about me though, how did you end up in the middle of another outbreak?”

“The army asked me to be here.” Olivier replies with a shrug. “I felt like I owed them a favor and accepted. Normally I’m with GIGN, but I guess they wanted my assistance as the resident biohazard expert.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m no medic, but I can tell you the science behind all the diseases you’re facing.” Olivier replies with a grin. He continues to explain bits and pieces of his past, expanding on past missions while staying vague about his personal life outside of the field.

It’s clear to Gustave that he’s passionate about his line of work as well. They continue their conversation with ease, recounting all sorts of experiences in the field. He finds Olivier to be an easy conversationalist. 

Gustave is in the middle of recounting one of Noel’s early MSF misadventures when he notices the time on his phone. It’s been nearly an hour and a half since Noel had left for their shift. “I didn’t realize that so much time passed—weren’t you here for a tour?”

Olivier takes a glance down at his wrist in response. “I guess we did get a bit sidetracked.”

“I’m mostly free for the rest of the evening if you’d still like someone to show you around,” Gustave offers as he gets up from his seat. Unless an emergency broke out in the high-risk zone, there wasn’t much else for him to do at the center today. He had gotten most of the urgent paperwork done and sent out already, so that was already one less thing to worry about this week.

“Well, that’s why I’m still here,” Olivier replies jokingly while getting up from his position on the desk, languidly stretching his arms out above his head. The navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing lifts up slightly in the process. “Not that I didn’t enjoy this, of course.”

“So how much of the center have you visited already?” Gustave asks as he rummages around his drawers for a fresh pair of gloves, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you and Emmanuelle already visited the high-risk zones yesterday.”

Olivier nods and explains that since they were already geared up the day before, Noel had taken the two over to the quarantined side of the center later that evening before their shift. It was a long trip to get here yesterday, and he admits that he didn’t have the chance to visit most of the center as they both leave the tent side by side. After leaving the high-risk zone, he and Emmanuelle had split off and he had headed back to his lodgings early. The only place Olivier was familiar with outside the quarantined areas was Gustave’s office. 

Once outside the office, Gustave leads him around the low-risk zone, starting with the meeting tents where he had bumped into Emmanuelle after his shift. He figures most parts of the center are pretty self-explanatory, and doesn’t go into much detail for Olivier’s sake. Gustave discusses the reasoning behind the general layout as they walk past the storage tents, making sure to point out the nearby incinerator for gear that can’t be disinfected near the back. He sees a soft plume of smoke curl up into the air as they head towards the pharmacy on the northernmost side of the center.

He’s planning on walking past the pharmacy and directly to the water tanks when he notices his new colleague has stopped a few steps behind him, head turned to their left.

“Is there always this many civilians at the center?”

Gustave walks back towards Olivier, turning to face the visitor’s area the man stopped to look at. While there were only a handful of people there this morning when Gustave had passed by, it seemed that a larger crowd of family and friends had formed at the double fence since. “Just in the visiting area. With the number of people suspected of having the virus increasing, the crowd of visitors is growing everyday.”

“Are you sure this is smart? Letting them all in here?”

“I wouldn’t carelessly endanger the same people I’m trying to help, Flament.” Gustave answers while turning to face Olivier, careful not to let the annoyance creep into his voice. “A safe distance is still maintained while they’re visiting their loved ones. It’s the best we can do given the circumstances we’re in.”

Oliver hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say much else. His gaze is still fixed on the crowd, brows furrowed.

Gustave feels his jaw clench.

They’re both quiet as they continue to observe the crowd. Voices from the visitor’s area can be heard from where they’re standing, though it’s difficult to make out exactly what is being said. After all the suffering Gustave sees on a daily basis throughout his career, it’s comforting to see the smiles and laughter coming from both sides of the fence.

“If we’re done standing around here, let’s finish up this tour. There’s not much left to show you and I still have other responsibilities to attend to.”

“Of course. Lead the way, Doc.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is one of the longer things i've written in a while, and an ambitious one at that. i hope that nothing seems incredibly too ooc, and that lore stuff is still relatively accurate based on what i could find. it's been weird writing about an outbreak during... another outbreak lol. hope u enjoyed this mess of an introductory chapter i decided to post!
> 
> will probably update with grammatical fixes soon as well as continue writing the next portion of the story:')) i'm a notoriously slow writer and life has been rough, but i do want to see this fic to the end (or at least to the point where they get together......................)


End file.
